


Six and a Half Funerals (Kings AU)

by SimplySyra



Series: Blood on Gold Kings [17]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunters, Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Mad King Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplySyra/pseuds/SimplySyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six and a Half Funerals (Kings AU)

**The First**

They bury him in a great marble tomb. Though no matter how they polish its face, it will never reflect the starlight the same.

No one dares say anything when the Second refuses the new crown the Architect forges for him. He still wears the old with the dried blood of his successor smeared like a row of rubies around its cracked rim.

**The Second**

There is music. They wear black veils. They do the appropriate thing. And yet none can shake the strange yet definite feel of relief that sinks into their bones.

**The Third**

They weep as they lower him gently in a velvet-lined casket. Grieving hands cast rose petals into the air. It is meant as a gesture of affection, but many cannot help but notice the way it falls like a rain of blood.

The love on their faces turns to horror as the Mad One steps out from the still-open grave, grin crimson and wet with the desecration of their king. 

"Oh, I’m sorry," he says. "Was I supposed to wait for them to say grace?"

**The Fourth**

The Trickster buries him alone in the forest in the dead of night. He is the only one who dares oppose the new king’s mandate to leave the body for the ravens. The Maker respects the crown’s command, and the others are too afraid.

So he digs alone. Erects a stone alone.

And the Mad One, grinning from the shadows, lets him.

**The Fifth**

Bedrock is not deep enough. Although the Maker, spent from his creation of the universe, tries and fails to go deeper. So when the Trickster steps forward with a smile as dangerous as the flash of sunlight on a sword, the Maker reluctantly agrees to borrow his power.

The Trickster opens his mouth wide, so wide, and the depths that drop from between his burnt lips fester with heat, the very ground a tumult of fire and debris, splitting open to bleed garish lakes of lava.

It is a twisted mockery of the Maker’s world, populated by naught but wretched abominations that shriek and squeal and stutter across the landscape waving twisted, malformed limbs.

And the Maker, weary, carrying the weight of worlds in the bags beneath his eyes, just sighs and says, “It’ll have to do. Surely that is enough.”

But it’s not.

**The Sixth**

They’ve never buried him because they can never find his body, but they hold a service all the same. They are not so foolish as to think he won’t know.

**The Half**

They are halfway through her memorial service when the cry goes up that her body has gone. In its place, a pile of ashes. Innocent fools, they sweep her legacy into an obsidian urn which they install in the city beneath a monument dedicated to her memory. And when she awakes again, her violent rebirth levels the entire city.

Now they exile her remains to the furthest most remote part of the kingdom. They wait for the ground to shake, the air to burn, before crawling back on hands and knees through the seared wasteland of her furious renewal, not daring to meet her gaze.


End file.
